


Take Me Apart

by FantasySwap



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:57:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap
Summary: Prompt on tumblr:Can you write a fic with Klaus going through his first breakup as a teenager and Diego taking care of him?In which Klaus has poor taste in men, but it would seem that Diego does too.





	Take Me Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it’s sort of what you wanted?? :D

Klaus has gone missing before. Usually he tumbles in through the window the next morning, goofy smile plastered across his face and his eyes glazed over. Sometimes he bursts in through the back door whilst they’re all eating breakfast, angry and wasted, turning cold, bitter eyes on his siblings. Whatever he does, it’s always dramatic, always something designed to draw attention.

 

One thing he has never done, though, is slip inside through Diego’s open window and crawl into bed next to him, curling his small body around his brother’s. He’s cold and trembling all over, and when he presses his face into the back of Diego’s neck it’s wet with tears. He doesn’t reek of alcohol though, and he doesn’t smell like pot; Diego doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not, because it means these must be his emotions in perfect clarity. Klaus off his face and weeping is always more reassuring, always preferable, to Klaus perfectly sober and sobbing in Diego’s bed.

 

Diego rolls over, straining to make out Klaus’ features in the dark. He lifts a hand, feeling his way from Klaus’ side up his bare arm to his cheek, damp with tears. He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears, tracing soft circles under Klaus’ eyes.

 

“Klaus,” He whispers urgently. “What’s wrong?”

 

Klaus just sniffles, manages to slide his feet sneakily between Diego’s legs to warm them up; Diego would complain, tell Klaus to wear slippers or something, if he wasn’t shaking so hard the bed was practically moving, though that might have more to do with Klaus’ abilities being affected by his emotions than anything else. Besides, it wouldn’t do any use. Klaus is always barefoot these days, says it helps channel his powers.

 

But he’s always gone these days as well, and now he’s crawled through the window and into Diego’s bed in the dead of night crying his eyes out, and Diego wants to know why. He winds an arm around Klaus’ waist and shuffles closer so that their bodies are almost pressed together - doesn’t think about how this is weird, this is not what normal brothers do, they shouldn’t be doing this - and Klaus will be warmed by the heat radiating from Diego’s body. Diego dips his forehead to rest against Klaus’ and speaks softly to him.

 

“Klaus?” He breathes, the whites of his eyes starkly visible against the darkness surrounding them. It feels like they’re totally alone, silence heavy and intense shutting everything else around them out. 

 

Klaus chokes on a sob and throws his arm around Diego’s shoulder, wraps his leg over Diego’s legs and clutches, holding on as tremors wrack through his entire body. It feels like they’re more powerful than he is: Klaus is so skinny and scrawny nowadays that every tear feels worse than the last, like the sheer pain might tear him apart.

 

“We broke up.” He cries plaintively into Diego’s neck. Diego can feel him, breathing wetly against the skin there.

 

“Wait, what? Who?” Diego asks, trying to remain as calm as possible because even though he had no knowledge that Klaus was dating anybody - correction: even though Klaus hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him, ouch - he won’t do either of them any good now if he freaks out and starts demanding answers. Klaus would probably stumble back to his own room and never come to Diego for comfort ever again, or worse, trip over in the dark and crack his head open against the floor.

 

“Danny and I.” Klaus tells him, rubbing his nose into Diego’s neck. It’s cold and kind of gross but Diego loves Klaus - like a _brother_ , _nothing_ _more_ \- and he thinks he’d let him do just about anything if it meant he stopped crying.

 

“Who’s Danny?” He prompts as softly as he can manage when it feels like his heart is in his throat. 

 

“My boyfriend. My _ex_ boyfriend.” This causes a whole new wave of tears and by the time Klaus has calmed down enough to be able to breathe properly, Diego has accustomed himself to this new and ultimately unsurprising reality. Klaus is beautiful; he’s gorgeous and funny and smart. He’s captivating in a way that not many people ever are— like you just have to watch him, like when you’re the centre of his attention you’re the most amazing person in the universe. Of course he’d have found someone. Someone who isn’t Diego.

 

“What happened?” He urges, not wanting to push Klaus too far but knowing that if they don’t talk about this tonight then Klaus will be gone by morning, and they’ll never talk about it again. “Tell me about him.”

 

“I met him in a bar.” Diego’s stomach twists. They’re sixteen. “He was… older. And funny. He bought me a drink, and then offered to buy me dinner. He was so sweet. He always let me sleep at his place and listened when I complained about stuff and didn’t call me crazy when I talked to people.” The unspoken, ‘dead people’ hangs in the air between them, left unsaid.

 

“So what was the problem?” Diego asks, genuinely curious, because this person doesn’t sound like the dickhead pervert he had been imagining beating up. 

 

“He was _married_.” Klaus whines, words muffled where his head is pushed into Diego’s chest. “He was married and he’d been leading me on for _months_ , taking me to his second apartment and telling me he had weird hours at work. I never even knew that— he had _kids_ , Diego. And a wife. I’m a— I’m a fucking home-wrecker. His wife found out, those kids are gonna grew up without a dad and it’s _my_ _fault_.”

 

Diego swallows and rests his chin just on the top of Klaus’ head, his curly hair soft and ticklish against Diego’s skin. He wants to tell Klaus to shut up, that none of that was his fault, but he can’t seem to get the words out properly. He’s never been able to, when it matters.

 

“Klaus,” He says slowly, lethargically, like his tongue is too big for his mouth. “You’re not a home-wrecker. You’re ju–just a kid. A kid who he took advantage of. He was an asshole.” Diego is proud of himself that he only stuttered once, managed to channel his anger and loathing towards this Danny guy into love for his brother.

 

“No—” Klaus tries to argue, sounding pitifully sad.

 

“He _was_ , Klaus. Whatever happens to him is his own fault, not yours. You deserved better. You _deserve_ better.” Klaus is watching him now, silent in the dark save for the rhythmic pattern of their breathing. His eyes are bright with unshed tears and Diego’s gaze is instantly drawn to Klaus’ mouth, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip experimentally.

 

”Did you love him?” Diego asks, and waits with baited breath. He really isn’t sure if he wants to hear the answer to this, answer it feels like an eternity before Klaus is inhaling shakily.

 

”No,” he replies. “But he looked after me.”

 

”I could look after you,” Diego is telling him before he stops to think about what he’s saying and the implications it could have, the consequences it could cause for his brother and the rest of his family. “If you wanted.”

 

He sees the thought before it even crosses Klaus’ mind, knows half a second before it happens that it’s going to happen. Klaus presses forward - they’re so close together, practically breathing each other’s air, that it only has to be a gentle motion - and kisses Diego on the mouth, firm and insistent. 

 

Diego feels captured, frozen with desire and guilt all mixing into one confusing, intoxicating cocktail of sensation. He wants to kiss back so he does, lips moving in unison with Klaus’. Klaus’ tongue slides inside his mouth and when Diego’s sickening guilt takes over, when he tries to pull away, Klaus swings himself up until he’s sitting on Diego’s waist, spine bent as he leans over. He doesn’t let Diego go, placing a hand on each cheek and drawing him further into the kiss. Diego can taste Klaus’ tears between their mouths, mingling with saliva and the distant taste of something sweet and sugary.

 

Klaus isn’t harsh or aggressive, but he’s controlling. He moves Diego’s face where he wants it to be, traces a finger around Diego’s lips and dips it in his mouth along with his tongue until he has saliva dripping down his chin. After the events of tonight, Diego lets him have control, let him manoeuvre Diego whenever he wants. Klaus needs to feel like he’s in charge, in control, and Diego isn’t going to take that away from him.

 

It’s only when Klaus’ hands fumble at Diego’s waistband, settle over his crotch, that Diego forcefully draws away. He catches Klaus’ wrists in his hands and holds them still, taking care not to actually cause any pain.

 

“What…?” Klaus is panting, still crying like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

 

“Not right now,” Diego runs a hand comfortingly down Klaus’ side, fingers dancing against his bare skin. “You’re crying.”

 

“I always cry.” Klaus assures him, trying to escape Diego’s hold so he can get back to it. “Danny liked it.” He freezes after he says this like maybe he’s forgotten why he’s here in the first place, and when he seems to regain consciousness he’s a little shakier, a little more distant. He doesn’t fight with quite as much energy.

 

“You don’t want this right now, Klaus.” Diego tells him, because as much as feeling in control will help him, maybe Klaus just needs someone to let him know that it’s okay if he doesn’t. It’s okay if he feels helpless or powerless or like the world is moving on too fast around him, without him, because Diego will always be there to make sure nobody takes advantage of him in that state.

 

Klaus doesn’t try to argue with him when Diego guides him back into a horizontal position, curling around him and petting his hair soothingly. He’s still trembling a little and every so often his shoulders will hunch like he’s trying to swallow back a sob, but Diego holds him through it, won’t let him go through this alone.

 

He knows that Klaus won’t tell his siblings about this. He won’t tell them that he had a boyfriend in the first place, much less that said boyfriend was a married man with kids, and he certainly won’t tell them that their break up caused him to sob and crawl into Diego’s bed in the middle of the night. 

 

That’s okay though. Diego is fine with this being just a them-thing. In fact the idea of it being a little secret of theirs, whether or not Klaus wants to acknowledge any of this in the morning, is a reassuring one. At least if they never mention it again Diego won’t have to know whether this was Klaus being genuine or not, won’t have to know if he just turned away his only opportunity or not.

 

So he holds Klaus as he shivers, plays with his hair until his breathing evens out a little and his chest is no longer heaving erratically from the force of his sobs, until he’s nudging Diego hand every time it stills to get him to carry on. He’s adorable and tragic and beautiful all at once, and Diego is dizzy with it.

 

He whispers to him as well, until he falls asleep. Tells him things like, “You’re beautiful, you’re so perfect Klaus, deserve so much. Love you so much.” He doesn’t know if Klaus believes him, but he believes himself one hundred percent and maybe that’s the important thing. When Klaus falls asleep Diego is still awake, the arm that isn’t slung over Klaus’s waist having gone dead from having his brother’s head rest on it for so long. His fingers are absentmindedly stroking through Klaus’ hair.

 

Diego is just about to let himself close his eyes and drift off when Klaus stirs, speaks, shocking him. He had thought he was asleep; he doesn’t know if he would have said half the things he said if he’d known they would actually be heard.

 

“Do you really?” Klaus asks, throat scratchy from all the crying he’s been doing. Diego’s heart hurts to think what he was doing before he came home, alone and cold and crying and horribly vulnerable. 

 

“Hmm?” Diego hums.

 

“Love me. Do you really?”

 

Diego stiffens. Yes, is the simple answer. Of course. Klaus is his brother, his best friend, of course he loves him. But that isn’t what Klaus is asking and he knows it— does he love him? He does, in a painful way. In a way that makes his chest constrict with nausea and anxiety whenever he thinks about it, in a way that means he can’t bear to lose Klaus. Can’t bear to not know where he is, how is he is, what he’s doing. He won’t be any good for Klaus, he knows, but maybe he’ll be better than the assholes that would take advantage of him otherwise.

 

If Klaus wakes up in the morning and decides he still wants Diego, he’ll be okay with that. If he decides he needs time to figure things out, Diego will be okay with that too. If he wakes up and decides he never wants to see Diego again, decides he’s disgusting and wrong and perverted, then it will feel like Diego’s heart is shattering into a million tiny pieces but he’ll agree to it. Because he loves Klaus, and this is what love does to people.

 

He kisses the back of Klaus’ neck tenderly, and doesn’t reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave me prompts on tumblr @fantasyxswap! <3


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